


It's Not Like Any Other Love

by shocked_into_shame



Series: It's Not Like Any Other Love [1]
Category: The Smiths
Genre: First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 07:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3402941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shocked_into_shame/pseuds/shocked_into_shame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny falls for Morrissey, and he falls hard; which would be good, of course, except for the fact that Moz is his best friend, his very celibate best friend.<br/>[Originally Posted on Tumblr]</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Like Any Other Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that everyone over on Tumblr went nuts for. It's one of my favorites.

 

Photoshoots have never been Johnny's favorite thing. Maybe it stems from feeling slightly unattractive, maybe he doesn't like being directed, unsure of how he looks in the camera. Regardless, he's here, in a simple button-up and leather jacket, his jeans held up by his favorite belt. Morrissey is pacing the length of the studio, dressed in a pink blouse that, on anyone else, would be garish. He, unsurprisingly, looks absolutely handsome in it, as he does in everything he wears.

Initially, the pair stand side-by-side, Johnny awkwardly crossing his arms and Moz doing odd little poses. The photographer makes a noise of frustration and sets down his camera.

“There is such a connection between the pair of you, I can feel it in the air...” Moz quirks an eyebrow and looks at Johnny, who grins slyly back. “But I can't feel it in these pictures. Hm.” The photographer moves forward and begins to position them, moving their limbs himself. And eventually Moz is behind Johnny, his arms wrapped around him and his head leaning on Johnny's shoulder. Their hands are clasped together.

As the photographer snips photo after photo, Johnny can feel Moz's breath on his neck, can feel Moz's heartbeat behind him. Their hands fit almost perfectly together. Something is building in the pit of Johnny's stomach. When they are done, Morrissey pulls away and Johnny instantly misses the heat of his body, wants to hold his hand again.

Uh oh.

Johnny's heart is pounding in his chest, expanding and contracting in a way that sends tremors down his spine, tears beginning to sting in his eyes. This is completely irrational, makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. Here he is, a straight man in a committed relationship, feeling such a visceral reaction to another _man_. 

And it's no help that the man who he is consumed with, every moment of every day, is Morrissey. The same Morrissey who had broken up with Annalisa without a second thought, the same Morrissey who swore to being celibate and disliking sex. The same cultured, shy, witty and profound Morrissey who made Johnny feel inferior in every single way.

Before that photographer had gone and stirred feelings up in him, Johnny knew that there was a connection between them; that was palpable every time they created music together. But the guitarist is having a tough time recognizing where the partnership begins and ends; was this connection because they balanced each other out on a creative level, or was it due to the fact that maybe, just maybe, they were perfect for each other romantically?

The black-haired man, since that photoshoot, thought of his band mate constantly. Everything reminded him of the handsome and innocent man. Johnny couldn't go for a 5 minute walk without thinking of some tree or some person or even some  _rock_ , for god's sake, that reminded him of Morrissey. It was ludicrous, really. How on earth could Johnny expect to do anything, get anywhere in his relationship with Angie, if all he could think about was how he wanted to kiss Morrissey's sly grin, wanted to stare into cerulean eyes for the rest of his life? 

Well, snap decision time.

So, he breaks up with Angie. He snips the chord that had united them since they were in primary school, all because of Moz. Is the hammering in his chest a result of guilt or of excitement? He is  _free_ , free to pine after Morrissey all he wants. He can sweep Moz right off his feet, make Morrissey love him just as much as he loves Morrissey. And it'll work. 

Hopefully.

 

It begins very subtly. Johnny decides to simply be overly nice, to show very small gestures of appreciation for Moz every chance he gets. If Moz is carrying something, Johnny offers to do it for him. If they have been rehearsing for a long while, Johnny will tell the band to take a break and brew Morrissey a cup of tea, precisely the way he likes it. They seem like very miniscule, trite gestures, but they are entirely worth it. If not to make Moz feel something for the guitarist, then just to see Moz's reactions. Johnny takes his heavy bags and a smile spreads across his beautiful face. Johnny hands him a cup of tea and his blue eyes sparkle in appreciation. It's wonderful.

Soon, however, Johnny gets bored of this, wants to really make an impact on Moz, and these little things just aren't doing it. Honestly, it doesn't even seem like Morrissey is noticing, and if he is, then he isn't saying anything about it. So the little gifts begin.

First, on the way to rehearsal, Johnny stops by a tiny florist. It must look odd, a short man in a leather jacket, circular sunglasses, hair teased, fringe in his face, and a shiny golden hoop in his ear, standing there amid the flowers, painstakingly selecting a bouquet. He is dead-set on finding flowers that match the blue of Moz's eyes, which, finally, he finds, and even if the price is a little steep he doesn't mind. He goes to the counter and pays, and the old woman behind the desk is kind albeit a bit slow. As she wraps the flowers, she asks, “Are these for your girlfriend?”

Johnny smiles and takes the bouquet, “After this, hopefully.”

He arrives to rehearsal only 3 minutes late, which doesn't matter because Mike and Andy aren't even there yet. Morrissey is sitting by himself in the rehearsal space, reading a book and chewing on his bottom lip.

“Mozza?” Johnny asks, flowers behind his back.

Moz looks up, blue eyes wide and lips delicately parted. He must have been deeply engrossed in his book. “Yes, Johnny?”

Johnny grins and stretches the flowers out toward the quiffed man. “I saw these on the way here. Thought you might like them.”

Morrissey's face breaks out in a wide smile, his eyes sparkling as he takes the flowers and brings them up to his face to smell. Sure enough, they are an exact match to the blue of his eyes, and Johnny feels his heart jump in his chest. It's ridiculous, really, how Morrissey makes him feel. All giddy and shit, like a teenager all over again.

“They're beautiful, Johnny. Thank you.”

The next gift is a little less simple. Johnny surprises Morrissey with a brown parcel one evening after a gig, handing it to him with a big smile. Andy and Mike are sitting together and laughing about something or another, each slightly drunk or high or both. Moz takes the package and smiles shyly, asking, “Is it my birthday?”

Johnny laughs and shakes his head. “No, just wanted to give this to ya. To say thanks for being such a great friend and all.”

Moz quirks a think eyebrow and runs a hand through his quiff before he begins to tear open the package. Inside is a Sandie Shaw record, a rare find that Johnny had to search all over for. It wasn't cheap, but it was something that Johnny knew Moz needed to complete his collection. Morrissey lets out a gasp and looks up at Johnny, wide-eyed.

“You didn't.”

“I did.”

Morrissey flips the record over in his hands, staring at it, beautiful mouth agape. Johnny is pretty pleased with himself. “How much did this cost?”

“Don't worry about it. Just enjoy it.” Johnny smiles at Moz, hoping he'll take the hint.

He doesn't.

Johnny is growing tired of this and fast. Morrissey is clearly too romantically inept to understand that Johnny is trying to show his interest, so now he has to throw caution to the wind and make it obvious. He buys more flowers, red roses this time, and a box of chocolates, and heads to Moz's flat.

_Tap tap tap_

Johnny raps at the front door, his heart beating too fast. He's dressed up in some of his favorite clothes, white jeans and his yellow turtleneck. He even put on cologne. He doesn't know what good that will do, but it's worth a shot, at least.

Moz opens the door, glasses on his nose and his hair a mess. He's wearing pajama bottoms and a plain t-shirt. Clearly, he was not expecting company, if the startled look on his face says anything.

“Johnny... come in,” Moz opens the door and steps aside for Johnny to enter. “I was just working on some words for that tape you gave me. What do you think of the lyric, _Park the car at the side of the road, you should know; time's tide will smother you?_ ”

Johnny sighs and smiles a bit with just the corner of his lips. “That's beautiful, Mozza, but I'm not here to talk about the band.”

“Alright, Johnny...” Moz trails off, looking down at the floor. “Is everything alright? I mean, I never really talked to you about your breakup with Angie. Are you okay?”

Johnny can't help but let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, I'm fine. I broke up with her, if you remember correctly.”

Morrissey is moving toward his kitchen to put on a kettle. “Why did you do that, by the way?”

“Because of you.”

Moz stops dead in his tracks, turning toward Johnny with a confused expression. “What are you talking about?” Johnny lays out the roses and chocolates on Moz's kitchen counter. Moz glances at them and blushes. “If I didn't know any better, Johnny, I'd say that you were trying to court me.”

“That was the idea.”

Moz raises his eyebrows and stares at Johnny. He vaguely looks like a dying fish, his mouth hanging open. God, Johnny feels like a royal idiot. He's completely missed the mark here, thinking he could just change Morrissey like this, make him want to be romantically involved with someone. Clearly, Moz is uncomfortable, and it's all his fault.

“You're... you're interested in me? In _dating_ me?” Johnny nods. Suddenly, he is really craving a cigarette. “Johnny, I don't think I'm exactly relationship material, nor am I what you want. I will admit, there is an... _attraction_ I feel toward you. But whether or not it'd be best to act on that, I'm not so sure.”

Well, that admittance is better than nothing. And it's enough to raise Johnny's confidence slightly. He looks at Morrissey for a long moment, taking this man in front of him in. Beautiful. Wonderful. No, Johnny will not give up that easy. He won't let the opportunity to call this man his slip through his fingers. “One date. You give me one date, one chance to prove to you how well we'd suit each other. Please. If it doesn't work out, then we forget it ever happened.”

Moz looks down at the red roses on his counter-top before giving a shy nod of his head.

They plan their date for the following Saturday. Johnny has everything planned out. He's going to bring Moz to this little park, and set out a picnic for them. He'll buy one of those expensive, fancy fruit salads from the market, and he'll bring his acoustic guitar to play Moz his newest song. It will be romantic and wonderful.

On Saturday morning, he drags himself out of bed to get dressed, go to the market, and pick up the food he'd ordered the night before. He opts for a black t-shirt and jean jacket combination, something appropriate for a casual picnic. Johnny grabs the nicest blanket he has, his acoustic guitar, and his wallet before stepping out on street and walking to the market, where his order is in a neat box. He lugs everything to Morrissey's house.

Moz steps out and he looks absolutely adorable. It leaves Johnny breathless. He's wearing a pink sweater over a pink button up, his hair perfectly styled. In his hands he has a small bouquet of flowers, which he shyly hands to Johnny. “For you.”

Johnny shakes his head and smiles. Together they walk to the park, setting up under the shade of a big oak tree when they get there. Johnny spreads out the blanket and Moz sits down, blue eyes shining against the green backdrop. Johnny wants to remember this moment forever. “I want to play something for you.” He pulls out his guitar and begins playing his newest song. It's simple, really, variations of simple chords, but placed together painstakingly and beautiful. It's going to, one day, become 'Well I Wonder', but, for now, it is wordless. Moz listens happily, gazing at Johnny with an unreadable expression in his eyes. Finally he gets through the song, and Johnny can't quite remember ever being so nervous to play before. He asks, very shyly, if Moz enjoyed it. The quiffed man smiles and nods, and Johnny breaks out in a smile so wide it hurts his cheeks. They sit together, making quiet conversation, the pair clearly too nervous and giddy to be their normal selves.

Johnny decides to break out the food. He opens the box, only to find that that the market did not give him the fruit salad and cheeses he had ordered. No, what's in the box sends Johnny gasping and rushing to close it, his stomach turning at the sight. In the box is a _pig's head_ , something he obviously didn't order.

“What's wrong?” Moz looks at Johnny worriedly. “Johnny, are you alright?”

Johnny sighs and buries his face in his hands. Well, there go his chances. He speaks into his hands, “They gave us a pig's head. I order a fucking fruit salad and get a pig's head instead. Fuck me.”

Morrissey gasps and pushes the box away, not caring to look at it. Johnny is still covering his face with his hands, on the brink of tears. All this work, all this planning, and his chances have been ruined by a slaughtered pig.

“Johnny?”

The guitarist doesn't look up. “I ruined our date,” he mutters.

“ _Johnny._ ”

Johnny shyly peers through his hands. To his surprise, Moz is kneeling in front of him, his face close, big blue eyes framed by long lashes. “You did not ruin our date. The market ruined our date.”

Johnny groans in frustration. Moz delicately grabs Johnny's wrists, pulling his hands away from his face to meet his eyes. “That's not what I meant... Our date isn't ruined. It's perfect.”

The pair stare at each other, sapphire eyes meeting honey colored for a short while. Moz reaches a hand up to gently cup Johnny's face before shyly leaning forward and brushing their lips together.

Johnny's mind reels. He grabs Moz's waist, holding him there so he can prolong the kiss, trying to direct Moz to move his lips. They kiss, lips molding perfectly together, hearts fluttering in their chests. Johnny can't believe it. He's kissing _Morrissey_. He can smell Morrissey's cologne and feel Moz's soft lips against him and everything around him is sensation. Johnny deepens the kiss, delicately adding tongue, which has Moz whimpering and clutching his hands at Johnny's shoulders. Sadly, though, Johnny needs to breathe, and he pulls away, looking into Moz's eyes.

“So, you'll give this a chance?” he whispers. Morrissey just smiles and leans forward to capture Johnny's lips in another kiss. And Johnny thinks to himself, g _uess it's not a ruined date after all._

 


End file.
